


Between Dream and Wakefulness

by KuriKoer



Category: Mob City
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Young Characters, falling asleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:11:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKoer/pseuds/KuriKoer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben wakes up to find out something new</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Dream and Wakefulness

**Author's Note:**

> theicescholar: "Sid/anyone, cuddles"

They fell asleep together on the broken sofa bed, the three of them, after the party died down and Meyer went home. Ben was drunk, but he remembered distinctly falling asleep back to back with Sid, bumpy spine in an undershirt against his bare, more padded back. Now he was facing the other way, and when he opened his eyes all he saw was the nape of Sid's neck, fine brown hair cut neatly and turning into smooth skin. There were noises, soft sounds that made Ben smile before he figured them out. When he did, he moved back a little.

Mandel, what was his name, Terry, the new guy, that's who bunked on the sofa with them. Terry was a lanky, blond youth, and Sid was already grooming him to be his no. 2, a decent, quiet cleaner like Sid was. Ben appreciated the guy's skills, and if he was a little on the too-quiet side, well, so was Sid. Still waters and all that. And Terry ran deep alright. Ben couldn't believe his eyes.

They weren't asleep, the other two. Terry was leaning on his elbow, big hand on Sid's jaw, and they were kissing. Really kissing, not the peck on the cheek the Rabbi gave him on his Bar Mitzvah, not the polite scary way the Italians they worked with used to do. Kissing, with tongues, with Sid's hand on Terry's chest under his shirt, with Terry's hand sliding down the side of Sid's body between them, over his ribs, to rest on his hip bone. The soft sounds Ben woke up to? That was Sid. For God's sake, that was Sid.

Ben inhaled sharply. It must've been louder than he thought because next to him, Sid froze, that soft curve of his spine rigid. Ben closed his eyes and counted the seconds between breaths.

He'd think about it later. He'd think about what it all meant, what he wanted to do, or not do. What he wanted to say, or not at all. Later, when they're not pressed together, when the vulnerable column of Sid's neck isn't an inch or two away from Ben's mouth.

After a moment, Sid was breathing again. Ben felt the springs moving, then heard them creak. The soft padding of feet, first one pair, then another, and the sofa bed was empty. Ben opened his eyes again to see the room vacated. He was alone. That creak from the hallway was probably the bathroom door.

Ben rolled on his back and stared at the ceiling. Sid. Terry he didn't know from Adam at this point, and if he was queer or not was of no consequence to Ben or the organization. But Sid. He didn't know this about Sid.

His mind kept playing these soft sounds, the little noises Sid made when Terry kissed him, touched his hair. Whatever else happened, Sid sounded... content.

Ben made his decision. He wasn't gonna say anything. He wasn't gonna do anything. And one day, maybe one day when Sid decides, if Sid decides, to tell Ben - then Ben's gonna look him right in the eye, put a hand on his shoulder and say, "I knew all along."


End file.
